AMONG OTHERS 75

bore the unusual name of Le Mesurier's dream. My
curiosity was roused and I took pains to discover his
initials. They were the same. I began to think hard.
Obviously the corporal had not been at Le Mesurier's
school. But then Brown had lived in Le Mesurier's
village. Now this was a County Regiment. And—
surely Le Mesurier's village had been in that selfsame
county? What was the village? I had often heard
him mention it: it was on the tip of my tongue.
(You must remember that war memorials were not
the familiar objects then which they have since
become. One would be quicker in the uptake now.)
I seized the first opportunity of asking an acquaint-
ance in the neighbouring battalion where the
corporal's home was. He obviously thought me
mad, but a week later I saw him again and he told
me. I recognised the name at once: it was Le
Mesurier's village. There could be no doubt now:
Le Mesurier had seen a tablet in his village church,
with the names of the village dead. And his own
and the corporal's were among them. A few
days later I caught sight of the corporal again.
He was telling a comic story. It was an eery
sensation, like seeing a man jesting over an open
grave.

The corporal was taken prisoner with the rest of
us, and never returned from captivity. A year or so
after the War I made a point of visiting Le Mesurier's
village. All three names were on the church
walL

»*..»•

I looked round the platform at the overheated
holiday-makers with perfunctory curiosity. My